Skins Series 8
by Jason Hall
Summary: It is the beginning of the 2013-2014 school year and much has changed. Roundview College is set for all new faces, all new teachers, and all new drama. Follow eight of Bristol's newest editions to it's ever growing list of colorful yet troubled youths, as they navigate relationships, friendships, family life, and their own minds. This is Skins. No shame, no pain.


**Eddie**

The most obnoxious alarm clock in the world went off once again. Eddie was so tempted to tear the damned thing out of it's wall socket and bash it against floor. As he lied there wide awake in his bed, staring at the bloody thing, he was a hair's width away from doing it. He almost thought he would, he could even envision himself thrashing it about with pure, sinister, satisfaction. But he didn't. As usual. He knew that he would just have get a new one, probably with a more annoying alarm, possibly some generic pop-culture song he would never feel inclined to know the name of. Not to mention his parents. Dear God, his father would have a heart attack while his mother had an eruption of fury and rage, just as soon as they found out. In the end he just chose not to. He always found him self doing that. Coming up with the most passionate thing to do in the heat of the moment, then beating it down with the shear force of his logic. In any case, he didn't really hate the poor clock, it was just doing what it was created to do. He hated what the stupid alarm meant.

He gently pressed the snooze button on the clock and gazed around at the pitch-dark, Gothic terror that was his room. Sunlight attempted to invade the room from behind his unforgiving shades, shadows painted on every inch of the space, everything as it should be in it's proper place. Blank white walls, floor clean of clutter, for God's sake even his sheets where still neat from when he made his bed ten days ago. Eddie sighed. Another school year, another Monday morning, another shovel of dirt in the grave. In a manner of speaking.

Eddie shuffled out of bed and into the bathroom, stripping out of his pajamas and into his boxers, desperate to prevent his eyes from receiving any contact with light. He stared into the mirror and began his routine. He started to stroke his face, playing with the skin beneath his eyes, the dimples on his cheeks, the stress lines upon his forehead. Next came the rubbing of his eyes and the staring into his own reflection in various ways, making a mental note of every flaw. After that was his unassuming wood brown crew cut hair, forcing it down, parting it, giving up after awhile, etc. Following that was the speech test. He began:

"Hello." In his regular tone.

"Hello!" In a loud tone.

"Hello . . ." In a deep tone.

"Hello. HELLO! He-llo. _Hello_. Hi. How are you? How _are_ you? I'm Eddie. _Eddie Paxton_. My name is Eddie Paxton." It went on like this for a few good and tedious minutes.

Finally came his full body. He ran his hands along his averagely toned, pale as a freaking ghost legs, chest, arms, neck, back, and shoulders. He disdainfully felt all the excess hair on his legs and thighs and lack of such on his chest. Which sported a misshapen chest bone that stuck out, granted it created the illusion of pecks, but Eddie knew the real thing would be preferable. He tensed and released his various muscles, nothing satisfying. You could even see his damn rib cage his was so skinny. By the time he finished, he sighed, brushed his teeth, showered, got changed, and left the bathroom, bitter once again. His clothes for the day were a a plain gray t-shirt, a pair of plain blue jeans, and pair of plain gray sneakers. All a part of a balance fashion style. Which is to say, none at all.

He went downstairs. Eddie grabbed his bag and was on his way out the door, but was unfortunately stopped by his parents.

"Where you going?" His father asked from the dining room table with a stereotypical newspaper on his lap.

"College." He flatly replied.

"No breakfast?" His mother said from the stove.

"I'm good." Did he like being a walking toothpick? Not really. Did he care enough to do something about it? Of course not.

"Really? Not even some toast? Just a slice." His father asked.

"Dan-" His mother cut in.

"He forgets to eat Helen! You know he forgets." Both strange and true.

"Dad it's fine. I'm going to start walking."

"Wait son," His father was standing now, his expression was heartbreaking. "You don't have to go-"

"Dan please-"

"I'm just saying. He's been through a lot. If he doesn't feel like going today he can go tomorrow."

"For God's sake he's 17!"

"Helen I'm just-!"

"Dad please!" Eddie cut in. It was a little louder then he wanted. "I'm sorry. I just . . . If I don't go today I'll never go. Right? Can I please just get it over with? Please?"

There was a long pause. His father looked like he was about to cry, or faint, or explode, or generally anything that Eddie would prefer he not do. That is until he spoke up.

"Alright. Fine. I trust you."

"Thanks Dad."

"Just . . . be careful please. Please."

"Sure thing Dad," Eddie opened the door. "I'm going now."

"You want a ride?!" His father called out after him.

"No thanks!" He responded, trying to hide just how irritated he was. And he was out the door.

The sun nearly blinded. Actually it pretty much did. It took him a moment or two to adjust his eyes. But by the time he did and regained his sight, he wished he was blind again.

* * *

Bristol. The worst thing England ever made. Beside jigsaw puzzles of course. Eddie liked walking, but walking through Bristol significantly lessened his enjoyment of the experience. Bristol, now here is something that he actually hated. He read somewhere once that it's the biggest center of culture in it's region. Whomever decided that should be tarred and feather in his opinion. He had never known a place more worthy of being called a cesspool. Pathetic looking buildings, unintelligent people, that pungent scent of dog crap in the air that never seems to go away, the works.

Though Eddie found it easier to ignore today. His was more preoccupied on his father. So cautious. You'd think a police officer in his early forties would instinctively be protected. But his father took the cake. Though he had every right to be considering what happened the summer before hand. But he wasn't ready to think about that just yet. For now he would just wonder off, past every terrible aspect of the cesspool he called home, to the second worst thing England ever made- the sixth form educational system.

Roundview College, his new school. Eddie always found sixth form education completely pointless. It's like the unwanted after thought of the school system. But that was beside the point. The point was, it was a high school and that's why it sucked so terribly. People always say that high school is so important because it prepares you for life. Life? As if stuffing a few dozen hormone-ally crazed adolescents into a confined space emulates life. Or at least that's what he thought. Like anyone actually cared.

He stared across street at the gathering teenagers heading into the school. As he took a moment to stare condescendingly at each and everyone them he couldn't help but try to understand why any of them came. He could tell that virtually none of them wanted to be there, so why come at all? Eddie didn't hate the concept of an institution of learning, just the people who happened to be in it. Ere-go teenagers.

"Too much, too fast, too much, . . ." He repeated over and over. He looked left, looked right, no cars. He started walking.

He was across the street . . . he was at the door . . . he was in the building . . . now the hard part. The building inside. Eddie looked around and couldn't help but stare everyone his age. He instantly hated them. The sluts wearing their clothes a few sizes too small. The meat headed jocks who can't count as high as their IQ levels. Eddie didn't want to hate them, he just did. It's like a child who hates a food he's never tried. It's not that's it's bad, he just doesn't know what it's like.

Before someone caught him staring, the bell had conveniently rang and soon the mass of young adults cluttered in the halls slowly, filed out until the halls were finally empty. Eddie was still awkwardly standing in place, so he obviously had other choice but follow.

* * *

"Good morning to you children! Children?" No one in the gymnasium ceased to speak. "LISTEN TO ME!"

The gymnasium went completely silent. The large, fat, bald man in the the pin stripe suit, black rim glasses, and rough gray beard the bellowing voice of a gorilla, had begun his speech to the students in the bleachers. Eddie wasn't sure if everyone was afraid or impressed. He himself had an even mixture of both.

"Thank you. Good morning children! Welcome to the NEW and IMPROVED Roundview College! I am your new Head Teacher - Benjamin Hopkins, but to you all I am Mr. Hopkins! The first of you RABBLE to call me Ben, Benjamin, or God help me Benji, I assure you there will be no quarter given!"

"What was that Benny?" Some random idiot called out, metting with clamorous laughter. And for a moment Mr. Hopkins laughed himself. Then . . . he didn't.

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU MISERABLE FUCKING STAIN ON ALL FUCKING CREATION!" The man's face became a veined tomato. And Eddie swore the idiot was about to take a dump in his trousers. But he was silent. And Mr. Hopkins had composed himself once again. "Thank you. As you can see, ladies and gentlemen! This is not the same Roundview as it has been in the last 7 years. Frequent reports of drug use, public drunken lewdness, acts of violence, vandalism, and two recorded student deaths. TWO HUMAN LIVES children! At the expense of your lifestyle. Well consider me your wake up call! The school board has deemed it my responsibility to bring this school back from the brink! And make no mistake children! I! WILL! SUCCEED! Understand?!"

No answer. He didn't need one.

"Good! Then let's begin. We have several new rules and policies that are to be initiated effective immediately . . ." His voice sort of drowned out after that. It's not like Eddie didn't want to pay attention, he just found it hard to hear the rest through the gym door. By the time the bell rang Mr. Hopkins had already started his ranting tirade. If he walked in, people would start staring and talking, and before you know it he'd be seen. Then where would he be? Not where he wanted to be, that much was certain. Staring in was all he could do now.

"Loud ain't he?" A female voice came from beside him. He darted his head to his right to notice who it could be. Just as he thought. No one he knew. Granted he didn't know many people, or any people. Women especially. But he was sure he didn't of her, whoever she was. Think your typical Joan Jett/ Avril Lavigne love child. Blonde hair, slightly curled. One pink and one black streak down the left side. Dressed head to toe in regular punk-grunge attire. A tight fitted black tank top with a skull imprinted on the front. Black skinny jeans with way too many tears. And pink shoes which Eddie didn't really see the point of. Though very attractive, he could tell that much. Except for this, vibe he got just by looking at her. Like the calm before a storm. She had this devious looking face. Like a fox's. Her eyes flashed like two nuggets of amber, highlighted by her black eye liner. He couldn't tell what exactly she was getting at. "Well?"

"I guess." He responded, maybe a bit too vaguely. It was his first conversation of the school year, besides the fact that it caught him off guard, it was with a girl. God help him.

"I swear every word that's coming out his mouth is 'twat.'" She starting mocking him. "You know? Twat, twat, twat . . ."

They both chuckled. So far so good. He wasn't getting panicky. Which normally was a good sign, if it wasn't for the foreboding sense of unease brewing in the back of his mind.

"Well. He's probably not as bad as you think he is." Eddie added in. He instantly deemed it the worst thing to say.

"What makes you say that?"

He shrugged in response. There was a moment of silence. He took advantage of it, to satisfy his curiosity.

"Why are you talking to me?"

She reach into her back pocket and pulled out a lighter and a rolled up piece of paper, probably spliff. She stuck it in her mouth, lit it up, and blatantly smoked it in full view of him. It goes with out saying that he was uncomfortable.

"I don't know." She stated, the lit spliff between her fingers. "It interests me that your out here listening and not in there not listening."

"Well, so are you."

"Exactly." She stared at him. Only stare. Blank and emotionless. Was she attracted, disturbed, demented, spiteful, anything? He was even more uncomfortable. She offered him the spliff. "Smoke?"

"No I'm good" He said. She went back to smoking

"So what is it? School not your thing?"

"No, it's not that . . ." He thought for a moment. "I guess . . . people aren't really my thing."

He waited for a response. Unsure he would get one. He was sure that he wouldn't. What would someone even say to that? Never mind how true it was.

"Hmm." It was all she said. She eyed him up. Up and down, up and down. He was ready to burst into flames. "Stephanie Turner."

"Eddie Paxton." He had a name to put to the face. Still, he didn't know what to make of the situation, even as she started to walk away.

"See you around Eddie Paxton!" She called out from down the hall.

"Really?!" He asked.

She shrugged, turned around, and walked off. He couldn't help but stare at her shrinking silhouette. It could have gone worse. It could have gone better, but it could have gone worse. All in all, not too shabby.

"Eddie Paxton,_ Eddie_ Paxton, Eddie _Paxton_ . . ." He repeated as he walked off down the hall.

* * *

Sweet solitude at last. The door was open to his first class, English Literature. Not a soul in the room, not even a teacher. He just propped himself down in the nearest seat, took out his notebook, and bled this thoughts onto the paper. Bu,t just as he got a good rhythm going, the door opened. And in came a gruff looking man with a pot belly and a full grey beard. A stack of books under his arm. He was taken a back for a second, seeing Eddie in the room but then asked.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" The man asked accusingly in a thick Scottish accent, setting the books down on his desk.

"Sorry, the door . . . was . . . open." He was half certain this guy had been to prison, by the look of him, and could snap his neck like a twig.

"Your supposed to be in the gymnasium with the rest of the school. Learning about how not to fuck up your lives."

"Oh, sorry. Well is it alright if I just sit here and wait?"

"No, it is not, now move." He held the door open for him and pointed the way out as if he didn't state it enough.

"Sir, believe me it's nothing I need to know."

"Now listen here-" He was getting more aggressive now.

"No sir! I just . . . I-I just . . ."

"You-you-you just what? Well? Spit it out lad."

"I don't do anything."

"Oh give me a fucking-"

"No sir, I'm serious." He was getting anxious now. So, in his most sincere tone, he tried to get his point across with out sound too pathetic. "I . . . I don't really . . . do . . . anything. . . Just nothing."

The man looked puzzled for a moment. Eddie was sure he didn't know what to make of him. All he did was stare at him, coming up with something else to say. Eddie chose to give up. The argument wasn't worth it. No argument was.

"I'm sorry, I'll go." He got up to leave.

"No," The man said a little too urgently. Catching himself, he tried again. "No. It's alright. Have a seat. I'm not one for all the bureaucratic bullshit Hopkins spits out either. Could barely stomach it, listening in there."

"Oh." Sympathy. Unwanted, but not unappreciated.

"Alan Prepcopp, this is my class." He extended his hand.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Prepcopp-" Eddie shook it."

"Please, call me Alan. We don't all have ten foot poles up our arses."

"Sorry Mr. Pr-Alan." An awkward nod followed.

They both sat down at their perspective desks. Eddie continued writing, while Mr. Prepcopp created the illusion of him working. Eddie wasn't fooled, he knew he was analyzing him.

"So . . ," Mr. Prepcopp finally got out. "Your not one of those overachieving bootlicks are you?"

Eddie shook his head.

"Good," Conversation had dropped again. "So, what've you got there?"

"Just a . . . Well I guess it's a story . . . if you'd call it that."

"Oh. A bit of a writer are we?" Eddie nodded in response. "A writer of what?"

"Just . . . whatever."

"Not very interesting things found on the topic of whatever."

"You'd be surprised." And Mr. Prepcopp was, only at his response.

"Mind if I have a read?"

"Maybe someday, when it's done."

"When might that be?"

Eddie shrugged. For something to be done, it has to actually be started first. That was his thing. Eddie loved to write. Anything at all, he loved it. He didn't know why he did, the love for writing stories just came out naturally. But the unfortunate thing was that he had absolutely no idea how to actually write them. He had all the ideas in his head, but he could never fathom his thoughts into the correct words. All he ever did was come up with creative things the characters would say, or talk about. And at times he would only start ideas, abandoned them, then forget about them entirely. But it kept him busy, and he couldn't ask for less.

The bell rang eventually and he could see the nonintellectuals filling the halls once again. He did his best to drown out their dribbles. Unfortunately the clamorous yelling of girls from down the hall didn't help. In fact it seemed to have gotten progressively louder, like it was on approach. Just then, in a flash, the door flung open. Through it came a short-stature boy with a golden blonde mess of hair, in jeans, a navy polo, and blue wind breaker. The boy quickly shut the door behind him and barred it with his body.

"Hide me!" He pleaded.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"HIDE ME PLEA-" Before the boy could finish the door flung open and he ducked behind it, out of sight.

In the doorway stood several extremely pissed off girls.

"Have you seen a little blonde haired weasel." One demanded.

Eddie stammered. He wasn't even entirely sure what the right side of the situation was. He finally went out on a whim and shook his head.

"Well if you do," Another snarled. "Tell him that we're going to FUCKING KILL HIM!"

They shut the door behind them as they left, revealing the boy balled up behind it. An expression of relief and satisfaction hung on his face as he came to his feet.

"Thanks mate," He patted Eddie on the back. "You really saved my ass."

"What the fuck did you do anyway?" Mr. Prepcopp asked, butting in.

The boy took out his, what Eddie like to call, "far from" Smart Phone.

"Hid in the stalls in between periods. Took some 'quality photos' of a few 'quality ladies.'" He had a devils smile on a devils face.

"Doing what?" Eddie added.

"What do you expect? What girls normally do in the loo." The boy stated a bit too flippantly.

"Taking a shit?!" Mr. Prepcopp said outraged.

"Pretty much yeah."

"Jesus Christ . . ." Mr. Prepcopp went back to work.

"A man's got have something to pass the time doesn't he?" He turned to Eddie. "You want a peek?"

"I'm good." He said a little disgusted. Oh, who was he kidding? He was a lot disgusted.

The devilish boy put away his phone and offered his hand.

"The names James. My mates call me Jamie. So, you can call me that if you like."

"Eddie." He shook it.

"And really I do owe you one. I debt I intend to pay let me tell you that much."

"If you say so." Eddie went back to writing.

"I'm serious. Just you wait, mate. We'll be even." There it was, empty silence. And then Jamie ruined it. "Got any porn?"

* * *

More students came in, or at least Eddie thought they did. He tried his best not to look up from his notebook. That was until there was a loud clap from Mr. Prepcopp.

"Alright people!" The room trickled to silence. Eddie had no choice but to look up now. "Let's get started shall we? Welcome to English Literature. Where it is my objective to bring some real culture into your lives!"

He picked up a copy of Great Expectations and held it like a preacher with a Bible.

"I will show you the miracle of an inch and half's worth of pure salvation. These books will save your lives. Like it saved mine back . . . in those terrible days. Where I found myself at the bottom of a black pit. Prison." Eddie could not believe how well he called that. "But new school policy has made it clear that teachers are to make more of an effort to learn all the names of every student so lets get on with this."

He took out a clip board and started to rattle off a few names. The first couple were met with a generic "here." But the first one he really paid attention too was the devilish boy who was still siting next to him.

"James Fitch?" Mr. Prepcopp asked. Jamie raised his hand. "Ah. The young man suffering from a variety of sick perversions."

"Hey!" Jamie returned. "I don't suffer from my perversions . . . I enjoy every minute of them."

The whole class laughed. Even Eddie did. He immediately wrote it down.

"Alright settle!" Mr. Prepcopp went on. "Now who else . . . ah! Annabelle Gaines?"

"Present!" Her voice called out from behind him. "And Anna is just fine thank you."

Turning around was instinctual. But what followed wasn't. She was beautiful. There were usually more eloquent words that he would use to describe a human being. But beautiful was the only word that came to mind. Beautiful in every sense of the word. Chocolate brown hair that fell gracefully down her shoulders. Her face lit up as she smiled, and it radiated across her entire being. She wore He could not take his eyes off her. She subsequently noticed this and looked eyes with him. She had the kindest eyes, not a thought he normally had about a person. She giggled a little when she notice his awestruck-en expression. He had a small heart attack.

"Mason Gaines?" Mr. Prepcopp continued.

"Here." Said the boy next to her. Which immediately drew Eddie's gaze. The boy, who was physically built like a house with jet black hair, gave him the dirtiest look with the sharpest pair of cerulean eyes he had ever seen. Eddie whirled around, fearing he had violated some sort of social convention.

"Oh, brother and sister I'm guessing." Mr. Prepcopp asked.

"_Adopted_ brother." Mason was very particular on the 'adopted' portion of the sentence.

". . . Fair enough. Moving on!" The next few names did nothing to catch Eddie's attention as he was hung up on how desperate he was to obtain the ability to see out the back of his head and catch one more glance at the enigma among women he had seen behind him. What was it about her? He had seen thousands of beautiful looking girls before, why is this one so particular? What was so eye catching?

Eddie twisted his head inch by inch until he finally saw her again at last. Her head was focused attentively on Mr. Prepcopp. This time, Eddie noticed her clothes. They were simple, understated. She wore a light purpleshirt designed with daffodils, underneath a white sweater. No jewelry or extremities to get in the way, and minimal make-up. Nothing outright sexual except for the length of her dress. (Side note: legs-for miles) So what was it this hidden quality that made him look. Perhaps it was just because she was beautiful, but it was something more. She was obviously gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that deserves to be made a big deal out of, but she didn't. Or maybe . . . just maybe . . . it was something else entirely.

Her eyes darted to him in an instant and he whirled his head back around. He could feel her adopted brother's eyes killing him slowly.

"Annabelle Gaines . . ." He muttered to himself, mystified.

"Maude Malone!" Mr. Prepcopp went on. "Christ that one's a doosey."

"Present." Said a black girl in the back, in an uncaring tone. She wore sort of man-ish clothing and her hair in a "Hunger Games" braid. Other than that, nothing unusual.

"Declan O'Connor?" Mr. Prepcopp went on still.

"Present," The boy next to her said in, surprisingly, a thick Irish accent. That was unusual. His wavy, dirty blonde hair and hipster style dress, not so much. "And it's Connor if you don't mind. Just Connor."

"The sheet say's Declan." Mr. Prepcopp stated.

"Yeah, well I prefer Connor." The Irishman was getting defensive.

"Connor O'Connor?" Jamie but in with a snarky chuckle.

"Fuck off perv!" Maude came to the Irishman's defense. Friends? He'd seen unlikelier pairs.

"Oi, that's enough, both of you!" Mr. Prepcopp ended the conflict. "The man has a right to be called whatever he pleases. 'I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.' That's Charlotte -fucking- Bronte! So simmer down. Now where were we . . . oh, yes, here we are. Edward Paxton?"

Eddie's face flushed. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, even though no one was probably looking at him. That's just how he got. He was still on the spot and not happy about it. He slowly and silently raised his hand, avoid eye contact. Mr. Prepcopp was merciful enough to avoid sarcasm.

"Heee . . . uh, hiii, . . . um hooorrr . . . hiii . . . oooo . . ." Mr. Prepcopp struggled with the next one. "Fuck it. The last names Reed?"

"Here!" An Asian girl in the front raised her hand energetically. "It's Hyori by the way." (Hee-yor-ee)

"Okay, and last but not least, Stephanie Turner," There was no answer. "Stephanie Turner?!"

"Umm . . . I don't think she's coming." Eddie managed to get out. People may not have been his thing, but school was probably not her's.

"Right then, that seems to be everybody. Let's get started." Mr. Prepcopp set down his clipboard and tore open his shirt. On his chest was the obvious picture of a woman's face, who looked remarkably similar to Charlotte Bronte. "Who's this?"

* * *

Class went by relatively fast. Eddie didn't raise his hand and thus remained in comfortable silence as the rest of his uncaring classmates tried to come up with answers to relatively simple questions. Except Anna, whom he was impressed with because she actually dared to answer any questions, let alone all of them, all while seeming to actually enjoying learning. Weird right? And he was even more impressed with the fact that she actually knew who Charlotte Bronte was. When the bell finally rang, everyone scrambled out the door. Eddie unfortunately took far too long in leaving and was subject to conversation with Mr. Prepcopp.

"You don't talk much do you?" Mr. Prepcopp asked.

Eddie shook his head.

"And that's fine," He went on. "Because my hope is that what you lack in oratory skills, you make up for in literary skills. I expect to read that story when it's done."

"Have a nice day Mr. Prepcopp." Eddie changed the subject on his way out the door.

"It's Alan."

"And if it's all the same to you I'll stick to Mr. Prepcopp." He left. Back into the fray of human interaction.

* * *

People were a hazard he periodically avoided. And the halls were packed. People on phones, people throwing balls, people not watching where they're going. Eddie made a conscious effort not to be bumped into or cornered. But unfortunately that was easier said then done. They came out in droves, the lot of them. All moving with purpose. Too many moving with purpose. They passed by at such speed in so many numbers. He soon found himself surrounded. They were circling him. He panicked, he could feel them getting closer and closer. He couldn't deal with it. Not now, not today. Eddie panted, sweat forming on his brow and the nape of his neck. He searched frantically for a way out. He saw one, the door closest to him. But even that was blocked by a rushing current of people. Eddie began psyching himself up. He needed to deal with this. He was the master of his mind. He ruled it, it didn't rule him. One, two, three. He charged. Plunging right through current, tensing as he made physical contact with them. The moment he was through he burst through the door and shut it behind him.

He caught his breath, as he found himself alone in the stairwell. That happened often. Too much to deal with, coming in too fast. Too much, too fast. It was a coping technique he developed. He would say it over and over to coach himself through situations with a lot of interaction and people and contact. Keeps his mind occupied. It wasn't perfect, but it helped, a little at least.

Eddie dusted himself off as he walked up the stairs to his next class. Suddenly, around the bend came three boys that screamed 'trashy.' A black boy and two white ones. All wearing equal amounts of saggy pants, tank tops, and backward hats. They were laughing and being completely obnoxious about it. Eddie saw them on coming and paying no attention, so he adjusted himself accordingly, not making any form of contact. But, that apparently didn't matter, because the black boy had not noticed and threw himself backward. The force of his motion knocked Eddie off his balance and sent him hurling down the stairs. He hit the ground with a thud. He felt like he could feel the earth rotating as he tried to pick himself off the ground. Then the trashy, obnoxious vultures circled.

"Oi, watch where your fucking going," The black boy said deprecatingly. "You could hurt somebody."

The other two snickered. Eddie eyed up his would be attacker. The thinnest tank-top in the world showed off an upper body that must have taken way too long to craft. Bushy, black hair. Saggy cut offs. A complete douche. He boiled inside. How was this guy serious? What kind of person acted like this? This was the part where any normal person would yell, pick a fight, tell him to go eff himself. Not get walked all over. And Eddie knew deep down he was far from normal.

"Sorry, I be more careful." He mumbled.

"You fucking better you little shit." The slithered off, laughing at his poor misfortune.

Eddie hated them. Them and everyone else like them. The dominant and ugly side of teenagers. The parasites. Those who feed off other people's pain. Those who laugh at train wrecks just because they aren't happening to them. Eddie often pondered what kind of people chose to pleasure themselves by making other people's lives just a little harder. It's completely sick, how could they not know that? Well, to hell with them. To hell with all the meat-heads that think they rule their own little worlds. To hell with anyone who laughs at a tragedy and feeds off pain. And while Eddie was at it. To hell with himself for being a complete pansy.

He lifted his injured self off the floor and climbed the stairs.

* * *

Lunch didn't come as soon as he expected. It was a welcome change because he finally got sat by himself on purpose. He knew that sitting all alone at a lunch table way off in the corner looks like a cry for a help. But he wasn't looking for any more sympathy. Not that he wasn't unwelcome to anyone who wanted to sit down. If a person wanted to come up and sit down they could, not like he would stop them. But no one wanted to, obviously there was something off putting about him, he just wished he knew what he was. Because God knows he'd change it.

Everything was relatively calm, aside from the asinine chatter of his peers he was desperate to tune out. Eddie was enjoying himself as much as he could, eating his extremely bland turkey sandwich. Then who walks in the lunch room? The blonde haired devil that was Jamie Fitch, he looked all over the place, like he swallowed too much coffee. Jamie noticed Eddie when Eddie noticed him. When Jamie did he began to pace over to him from across the room. Eddie cringed, of course he welcomed someone to take a seat if they wanted to, but a guy with a crapping girls fetish wasn't what he had in mind. And just when things didn't look complicated enough, coming down the aisle, alluring Anna herself along with hyperactive Hyori.

They were walking toward him. He panicked. Should he say something? Would that make it weird? Was it already weird? They were getting closer. Would saying something make it less weird? Would it only make it worse? Oh God, what if she says something. They were closer still. They were caught up in there own conversation, about to pass him. He stared down at his food, begging, don't notice him. Don't notice him, don't notice him, don't notice him . . . They passed him. He sighed with relief.

"Hey!" She popped up beside him.

Crap.

"Uh, hi." He managed to spew out the first thing that popped into his head. Too bad it was so unconvincing.

"Anna!" Hyori called from across the room in the most obnoxious tone. Worst part was Eddie wasn't even sure she could tell how loud it was. "There are open seats right over here!"

"Save me one, I'll be over in a minute!" She called back.

"Kay!" Hyori disappeared into the ocean of student.

Anna returned her attention. The conversation dropped. She foolishly expected him to bring it back up. It was fine though, not like he made it obvious. He could Jamie off in the distance, who had stopped his approach upon noticing Anna, making various signs of approval and what he assumed were sexual symbols. He tried his best to banish him with his eyesight.

"So, you going to scooch or am I not welcome?" Anna finally initiated conversation.

"Huh?" He returned to reality.

"Scooch. You. Move over. So I can sit." She explained. It sounded like her attempt a condescension, but he was smiling so brightly and acting cheerily, Eddie was unconvinced.

"Um . . I-I," He stammered. The entire table was empty, so she wanted to sit next to him? This was a sign for something, but Eddie couldn't tell what. So, once again his head got in the way. "I-I don't think . . . I mean . . . t-the table is . . . you know."

Smooth. (Sarcasm)

"Oh come on." She nudged him lightly. Which involved a light tap on the arm. Which counted as a girl touching him. Which he was sure hadn't happened in a very, very long time. So, it was enough to make spook him into jumping away, providing space for her to sit. "See? Wasn't so hard."

She giggled at her own joke. He vomited in his mouth. This was happening. This was actually happening. But one thing. Why was it happening? Eddie realized he was starring straight ahead. So he turned slowly and found her face no more than a foot away from his. He flinched. It was all happening too fast. It was too much. He wanted normal, comfortable, un-self imposed exile back. His chest got tight and his heart was going to beat out of his chest if all of it didn't stop. But he couldn't stop. He needed to do this. He breathed. He needed to do it for his Mum and Dad. He needed to adapt. He needed to prove to them what happened during the summer wouldn't happen again. He needed to prove to himself that he is not . . . well he wasn't willing to go there just yet.

He turned again and met her. She was grinning so widely and her eyes almost fluttered. It was like she was looking at a puppy.

"So . . ." He waited.

"So . . . " She repeated affectionately and mockingly. At least he hoped so. "Your the boy who stared at me in English Lit. class this morning."

"Y-yes that was me." Eddie wasn't expecting her to be so forward. He tried to redeem himself. " Not that I was staring, I mean!"

"It's alright." She laughed. Good sign? Maybe. Who know? Oh yeah- everyone that isn't him. "I'm fine with it. You could have done worse. Like the blonde boy behind me humping the air."

And she was right. Jamie was doing the most inconspicuous air humping dance in the distance behind her. Presumably ball busting. She didn't even look and she saw that. Who was this girl?

"Uh, yeah. I suppose."

"However. I am curious." What was it with girls at this school and curiosity?

"About what?"

"Well, you see, most guys are pretty 'under the radar' when they stare at me. You on the other hand seemed to be pretty open about it. And, I guess I'd just like to know why. So . . . why?"

"Um . . . I," Once again. Smooth. (Sarcasm) What to say? The truth? Brilliant, be branded a nut case. The icing on the metaphorical cake that was today. But, he needed to say something. Seconds were passing. Nothing. Say something. Say anything! Just then - an idea! "I'm a heterosexual teenage male and it is my nature to look at a beautiful thing when I see it."

. . . Wait. What?! No. That was the truth! Idiot. It was one of the things he wrote down for his book. Makes for an interesting bit of literature. But real life? Stupid! He silently prayed to God. If there was any decent time to kick off the Rapture, now would have been perfect. He waited. And waited. And waited. She raised her eyebrows. She kept her smile, but raised her eyebrows.

"Wow . . . you make fair point and thanks I guess," She was still smiling and she hadn't hit him. Eddie wasn't pleased, but he was satisfied. He certified the bullet as dodged. "So . . . uh, Eddie right?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you . . . you know?" She gestured to the empty table.

"Oh, um. No reason really. I just . . . picked a table and sat down. So . . . yeah." Why ruin the closest he'd get a perfect moment by bringing up the bad crap?

"Well, Why don't you come sit with me and my mates. I'm sure we can squeeze you in somewhere."

"Oh, no thanks I'm fine."

"Come on please." She wouldn't back down, in fact she was leaning in closer. Half a foot away now. Way too much.

"I'm fine!" He said a little too stern. But she appeared to have gotten the picture and backed off.

"Alright," She said, a little hurt, but she bounced back rather quickly. "If you change your mind, swing on by."

She was about to get up to leave, she just as she was about to. She looked at him and sat right back down. She then proceeded to try and look him in the eyes. Curious, he turned so she could look.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Your eyes." She responded.

"There's something wrong with my eyes?"

"No. It's just- you have mood eyes."

"Mood eyes?" This was news to him

"Yeah. They change color when you get all riled up," Then, without warning or enough time for Eddie to react, she reached out and took his face in her hands. "Here, move into the light."

He did and when he did, time had stopped. She was touching him. She was actually touching him. Eye to eye. Skin to skin. Hand to face. Inches away from one another. He felt a peculiar surge of warmth spread like a wave through his body. He touch was electric, stopping his once uncontrollable, beating heart. The light shining out of the window behind them igniting her being. She glowed, like an angel. All signs pointed to Eddie having some sort of panic attack. But he wasn't afraid, he was hypnotized. Her gaze was so enticing, he felt as though he could swim in her eyes. She smile, baring teeth. And believe it or not, he could feet the makings of smile creep their way on to his mouth.

"See? First brown, now green," She took her hands away, but Eddie didn't move. "And again, if you change your mind, we're available."

She grabbed her bag and left But Eddie still didn't move. He was frozen in his dream like state. Absent thought, absent feeling.

* * *

"You hitting that mate?" Jamie appeared in the seat across from him.

Eddie was shocked out of his dream like state and back to reality. He stroked his face, mystified. He knew it wasn't a dream, but the question was: what was is? For Eddie, it defied every feeling he had ever felt. So what then? He began looking around the room, through the sea of children, searching for his enigma.

"Well are you?" Jamie was getting impatient, like a child.

"What?" Eddie asked, his head not really occupied with the conversation. "I don't know . . ."

"Come on! You know! Are you snaking her drain? Cutting her curtains? Nailing her boards? Popping her cherry? Fucking her ass-"

"What?! No, of course not." He wanted the conversation to end. Seemed like it was filled with disgusting questions anyone could answer for themselves. Eddie still looked for her with minimal luck.

"Good, 'cause I think I found a way to pay you back."

"What?"

"You remember, when you hid me from that pack of angry bitches."

"Huh?" He thought for second, then remembered. "Oh yeah, that."

"Right, so, I gave it some thought. And the way I see it, you helped me get me some pussy, in a manner of speaking. So, it's only fair that I get you some pussy."

That caught Eddie's attention. Just then the bell rang and the teenage horde began to shuffle out the doors. Jamie put his arm around Eddie and lead him out into the halls. They walked and talked.

"How do even you plan on doing that exactly?" He was actually more curious than disgusted.

"Simple. Tonight, on this very night, we go out. We get shitfaced, get plastered, get fucked, both kinds, and kick ass while simultaneously taking names. You're a virgin right?"

"Yeah." Was it that obvious?

"That's alright, nothing to be ashamed of, I am too. But, that changes tonight mate. I guarantee it."

Eddie stopped and looked him straight in the eyes. This was it? This was what teenagers do in their spare time. Go out and have relations with one another. He had always guessed that some young people did this. But an entire school? And with the excited way Jamie talked about it, you'd think this had been his dream since he was in pre-school. Eddie was unsure he could even manage to keep up, let alone follow through. But, he had to try. He knew he had too. He promised his parents he'd really try. He could do it by himself.

"Where- and I'm not saying I'm even going along with this- but where would this even happen?" His mini-hallucination had made him particularly bold.

"Oh ye of little faith," He put both his hands on Eddie's shoulders. "I happen to know from a trust worthy source, that being the FINE young ladies in the washroom, that the entire school's flocking to this killer party, downtown."

And his boldness streak was over. Eddie's heart dropped. A party, not going to work. Not even remotely going to work.

"And!" Eddie spun him and pointed off into the crowd of students outside on the grounds, before Eddie could get a word in edgewise. "All we have to do is get in, is speak with that guy."

Eddie focused his eyes and saw the man-ish black girl and hipster Irishman from English Lit.

"Alright. Just let me do the talking and we should be fine. You ready?" Eddie nodded in response. "Good. Little heads up though, I'm high as a motherfucking kite. Okay. Onward!"

Jamie charged out the doors. Eddie paced after him, unsure of what else he should do. Whatever the case, it would end badly, Eddie knew that much.

* * *

"Good afternoon!" Jamie was polite, Eddie gave him that much as they approached the two by the actually cared to get a better look at them this time. Maude's manish clothes were a plad button down, shapeless grey jeans, boots (combat boots), a black sweatshirt, and the most condescending dark grey eyes ever used by a human being. Connor had a beige t-shirt on featuring a band he didn't know, along with cargo shorts and sandals. No to mention one of those "who are you kidding" fedoras.

"Fantastic." Maude rolled her eyes. Eddie was had never heard a sentence be anymore sarcastic.

"Be nice," Connor scolded her. "Sorry boys. She gets rowdy around strangers."

Maude socked him in the arm.

"Ow!" Connor laughed so it obviously wasn't serious. "It's not like it isn't true."

Maude socked him again. Evidently harder than the last.

"Right," Jamie cut in. "Down to business then. The name's Jamie Fitch, and my silent friend over here is Eddie Paxton-"

"We know you're names, fuck face. We heard them this morning. Now what the fuck do you want? You hoping to poke fun at his name again?" Maude mused gesturing to Connor.

"Would you relax, Maude?" Connor scolded again. He was probably the more level headed of the two. "The man was just ball busting. Ain't that right?"

"Yeah, of course but more to the point-" Jamie began.

"What's you're incentive?" Eddie and Jamie looked at each other. Connor explained. "You want in on the party, everyone does, it doesn't matter to me. But I don't know either of you. So, if you want to come, you got to make it worth my while."

"Ah! I came prepared for this," Jamie stared rummaging through his jean pockets. "I have drugs."

"Connor's got plenty of spliff." Maude brought up.

"Yeah . . ." Jamie pulled out a massive zip-lock bag filled halfway to the top with white dust. "But I bet you don't have much of this."

Maude and Connor got really wide-eyed for a reason. Eddie assumed that was because that was a lot by drug standards.

"Shite!" Connor shot out, maybe too loud considering what it was they were talking about.

"That's a lot of fucking coke." Even Maude was impressed.

"Coke?" Eddie asked stupidly. "Coke, as in 'caine?'"

"No. Coke as in diet." Maude's sarcasm was unwanted that time. "Idiot."

Eddie mentally kicked himself. Why the hell did he say that? Who says that? What other kind of powdered coke is there? But, it's not like he knew much about this either. He didn't even want to be apart of it. But he still had to try. Just play along. Cross the road when you get to it.

"Well," Jamie mercifully drew attention back to himself, stuffing his bag back into his pocket. "There just so happens to be more where that came from. So, do we have a deal?"

Connor thought for a moment, shared a look with Maude, and smirked.

"You, you're friend, and you're shite load of coke come to the warehouse just off River Road at 10:00 sharp. Drop my name at the door and I get it sorted."

"Fuckin A'!" Jamie shook both their hands as the bell rang. The two off the trotted off to their next classes.

"How the hell do you have so much cocaine?" Eddie asked once he was sure they were.

"I know a guy, who knows a guy, who may or may not have killed a guy over it," Jamie said way too caually. "Bottom line. We're in business mate! See you at your place! 9:30!"

Jamie ran off after patting Eddie on the back.

"B-but! You don't even know where I live!" He called out after him.

"I'll find out! Trust me! See you then!" And just like that, he was gone and Eddie was alone on the empty grounds.

What in God's name did he get himself into?

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to go by rather quickly. Probably because he had spent the entire day trying to deal with what he had to do in a couple of hours. When he came home and told his parents, they seemed genuinely happy for him. Or at least they tried to be. He lied down in his bed for hours, trying to find a way not go to the party while telling himself that he had to. He then decided to fix another problem while he waited. Eddie looked at his notes book. Pages upon pages of scattered thoughts and speeches. He turned to a blank pages, sat up in his bed and . . . nothing. It was a complete mess. He knew the kind of story he wanted to write, he just didn't know where to begin. He rubbed his forehead. It was the simplest problem in his life, and he couldn't even fix that. He gave up and lied back down. By the time 9:30 rolled around, he was dressed his cleanest blue button down with the sleeves rolled up and jeans. He sat alone in his bathroom, staring his reflection in the eyes, until . . .

"Eddie!" His mother called from downstairs. "Your friend is here!"

He inhaled and exhaled. It was now or never. He left the bathroom.

* * *

His mother squeezed him so tight, he'd swear he was going to pop.

"We're so happy for you honey. You know that right?" His mother whispered.

"Yeah mum. Of course." He said it a little half heartily. His father then spun him around.

"Now, you're cellphone, it's on and charged?" His father made sure.

Eddie nodded.

"And at the first sign of trouble, what do you do?" His father asked

"Call." Eddie uttered.

"Good. Now, this Jamie kid. He's alright isn't he? Not one of those knobheads?"

"Dan!" His mother scolded.

"Helen please, I'm just making sure," He went on. "And this party, it's clean? None of that dope nonsense."

"Daniel will you please trust your bloody son!" She was angry now, Eddie always hated when she did.

"I just want to be sure-" His father was interrupted by Jamie's voice outside.

"Come on, ya pussy. We're going to be late! Quit doing your fucking hair and get out here!"

His father looked like he was ready to go out there and wring Jamie by the neck. But he was stopped when Eddie hastily grabbed his father's arm.

"Dad please," He pleaded. "I have to do this. I need to do this."

His father looked at him for a moment, sighed, then hugged him close.

"I know kiddo, I know," His father whispered. "I just don't want to see you hurt. But I trust you and I'm proud of everything you've become. Alright? Just . . . make good choices okay.

He nodded. He was certain his father was going to cry. For his rough exterior, his only had one weakness, and Eddie was it. With a pat on the back, he was out the door. Jamie stood on his driveway impatiently.

"How did find out where I lived?" Eddie asked walking over to him.

"Stalked you home," He said nonchalantly. "Come on, let's tear it up!"

"Be home by nine!" His father called out after them, followed by his mother elbowing him in the gut.

"Just don't stay out too late!" His mother corrected.

As the two strolled up the street, he got one last look at his parents. He hated to lie to them. But this needed to be done. And he would be the one to do it. No matter what.

The bus they took arrived on the other side of town right on time. As the two descended from the vehicle, Eddie and Jamie gazed off into the distance. Across the grass knoll and parking lot was this massive, run down, factory. Erupting from the factory were colored streams of lights and loud music. Droves of cheering young people all herded for the main door. All in all, it did not live up to Eddie's fears. It exceeded them.

"This is fucking it mate!" Jamie could have toned down the enthusiasm. "After tonight our lives will have changed forever! Wooooooo!"

Jamie charged off across the knoll.

"No kidding." Eddie muttered to himself as he paced behind him.

A large, fat, stereo typical black man with a bald head and black suit guarded the door. Just as they had been instructed, Jamie and Eddie went immediately to the door and ignored the enormous line snaking out it.

"'Scuse me my good man!" Jamie began. The guard was unimpressed. "We're here for the party."

"That's supposed to surprise me?" The guard growled.

"No, but it is supposed to grab your attention. We happen to know there's a skinny Irish bloke in there named Connor. Let him know we have a shit load of an incentive for him."

"And why the fuck would I do that?" The guard's words were slow and dripped with disgust. We approached and towered over Jamie.

"I-I-I-I . . . Ummmm. Y-y-y-y-y-ou . . . Shit. Uhhhh . . . . w-w-w-we." The poor couldn't form a sentence. Eddie had been there, so he intervened.

"Here!" He reached into his wallet, pulled about fifty pounds and flashed it in the guards face. "Please just tell Connor we're here. And when you're done, you can have the rest."

He showed the contents of his wallet. A lot of money built up over the years he just never found the need to use. The guard looked at him skeptically, but took the money. He opened the door a crack and whispered something to someone inside. Then closed the door. Next came the waiting.

"Where the fuck did you get all that cash?" Jamie asked, finally recovered from his near death experience.

"I save . . . a lot." Eddie responded.

"We'll I'm grateful. My goose was cooked. Guess that's another one I owe you."

"Please, after this, we're square for life." More of these escapades was not something he wanted in the near future.

A few minutes passed and Connor finally emerged from the door.

"The gentlemen of the hour!" He blurted out, obviously deaf from the music. "You fellas got the goods?"

"Oh we got 'em." Jamie pulled five bags filled with cocaine. Enough to kill a small elephant.

"Hell yes!" Yanked the bags away "Right this way boys, let's pass this magic dust out and get fucking smashed!"

"Woooo!" Jamie high five-ed Connor and tried to give Eddie one to but they missed somehow. It was pathetic.

They ran inside, and Eddie took a breath and pursued. But before he did, he took his wallet back out and tried to pay the guard the rest.

"Keep it. You need it more than me," The guard said. Eddie guessed he could find sympathy anywhere. "Watch the company you keep."

Eddie nodded and thanked him, putting his money away. He went inside.

* * *

The music was loud, of a generic techno variety. The lights in the room changed from every color possible at such a fast speed, Eddie felt as though he could vomit as he swam his way through the crowd of drugged-up party-goers. The space of the warehouse was massive, but even still, the people that filled it were enough to over occupy the space. He got the notion from some of the men with tattoos that the school wasn't the only one here. Eddie desperately trailed behind Jamie, doing his best to not touch anyone one or inhale the pungent odor of sweat, alcohol, and smoke. It wasn't working, he was getting thrashed about and squeezed so much that he started panting, gasping for air. The sweat of his panic pooled in his face. There were to many colors, to many people, too much skin, the smells in the air crawled their way up his nose. He all of a suddenly had realized that he could not find Jamie or Connor. A familiar tension formed again in his chest. Too much, too fast, too much, too fast. He called out both their names, but could not even here his own voice. His panic swelled, his panting louder and faster. He was cast adrift in a sea of sweat and skin. Too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much . . .

"Oi! Numb nuts!" Jamie's familiar voice called out from above.

Eddie gazed up to see him hanging over the edge of the railing on the mezzanine, starring straight down at him.

"Quit fucking around on the dance floor we got mingling to do!" He pointed to a spiral staircase. "Get - the fuck - up here!"

Eddie was quick to comply.

* * *

Eddie had calmed himself walking up to the second floor, slowing his breath and wiping off his sweat. He met Jamie and the two walked into a walled off, make-shift, lounge. When the door shut behind him he was at ease. The music was drowned out and the amount of people in the room was limited to four. Jamie took no time making himself at home, sprawling out on one of the couches. Maude was lying back, impatiently on the other.

"About God damned time!" She snapped up. "I'm going out of my mind with boredom!"

"Down girl!" Connor teased, tossing her one of the bags. "Go nuts."

She caught it as started pooring out onto the coffee table, then started sniffing it up through a little straw. Eddie felt uncomfortable just watching.

"Welcome to Mt. Olympus gents. Make your selves at home." Connor jumped on the couch next to Maude.

Eddie was tempted to take a seat in a chair. But he decided to let the professionals speak first. He glanced out through the glass at the sea of people on the dance floor and assessed the layout of the room. There was a pedestal where a twenty-something DJ whatever it was DJ's did on his turntables, a stage where a set of instruments stood at the ready, and a bar no doubt where people were serving drinks. Eddie felt more at ease. No longer was he in unfamiliar, territory.

"Well sit down." Connor got impatient. Eddie turned to see the three of them looking at him weird. He already seemed hopeless enough, so he finally took a seat in the recliner he eyed.

"So I got to know," Jamie asked while Jamie started snorting up the blanket of cocaine on the table. "How the hell do you get it this good at a party?"

"There's never just 'a party' thrown at Mt. Olympus kid," Connor laid back on the couch, looking a little smug. "This place is monument to all the rock gods of old. This place has seen The Stones, The Clash, Zepplin. One doesn't have a party on Mt. Olympus, my friend. One pays tribute to greatness."

"Cool . . . still doesn't answer my question." Jamie wasn't impressed.

"He knows the band, idiot," Maude was more preoccupied with with her coke. Jamie flinched in surprise and blew a cloud of cocaine into the air. Eddie did his best to swat it away. "Oh fucking hell, you twat!"

"You know Mind Rape!" He said in awe.

"I know Mind Rape," Connor smugly replied.

"How the fuck do you know Mind Rape?!" Jamie was getting excited, and Eddie was uncomfortable at how many times he had heard 'mind rape' brought up casually. "They're like, my favorite cover band!"

"He's a musician." Maude but in, gathering what little coke she could off the floor.

"No shit?" Jamie responded.

"She shits you not."

"Fuckin' A." Jamie hastened to the door. "Well boys and girl, nice chat, but I'm off. There's a sea of pussy out there and I'm going fishing. See you out there Eddie!"

And just like that he was gone. And Eddie was alone with two strangers and a few dozen ounces of drugs. Not a good mix. Connor took out a spliff and started lighting.

"Want a bit?" Maude offered him her straw.

"No thanks." Eddie declined.

"Suit yourself." Maude went back to snorting, but Eddie had already noticed that a third of the pile was already gone.

"Are you sure that's healthy?" Eddie asked, concerned.

"No worries," Connor answered for her, spliff between his lips. "She has a remarkably high tolerance for all vices. You going to join your friend out there?"

"Um . . . no," Eddie replied. "And we're not really friends."

"Why are you here with him, then?" Maude asked.

"Forgiving a debt, I guess." Eddie realized the conversation was drifting dangerously into a question he really didn't want to answer.

"A debt?" Connor was skeptical.

"Yeah . . ." What to say? What was Eddie to say. "I saved from a pack of angry bitches."

. . . Really?! The truth again?! That's twice in one day, you idiot! The word 'bitches' left a bitter taste in his mouth. One of the many reasons he didn't curse too often, or at all. The two looked at each other, wearing their weird-ed out faces in full disclosure. Fantastic. He absolutely blew. Eddie await some kind of response as he twiddled his thumbs. There was silence.

"Your a little strange, you know that right?" Maude broke the silence.

"What makes you say that?" Eddie asked with an empty voice. As if he didn't know what the answer was.

"You just seem a little . . ." Connor searched for the right word. Eddie wished that he didn't. Why skate around? Just spit it out and get it over with. "Quiet, is all.

"Maybe there's nothing to say. Have you thought about that?" Eddie was getting defensive. He didn't mean to be, he just hated when he got the same question from the same people, over, and over again. You would think, no one would have seen a quiet person before. He could see that they knew they touched a nerve. He recomposed himself with a quiet breath. "Sorry . . . I'll leave you two alone."

Eddie turned his recliner around, so that he sat facing the window. He stared at the fools and imbeciles taking joyous pleasure among complete strangers as well as life long friends. Down there a midst the drugs, and the alcohol, and the music, and the smoke, and the lights, and the sweat, and the smell, and the skin. Memories were being made. People we're laughing, cheering. Living life to it's apex and then living even more. Eddie knew at least 8/10 of it was immoral, disgusting, and completely unintelligent. But for all their faults, those people were happy. Young and happy. And he wasn't. Eddie could hate them all he wished, but they were still one up on him. He was in there, in his own private purgatory, and they were out there not giving a damn about their everyday lives and problems. Envy never felt so green.

* * *

The door swung opened.

"Here's your god damn drink!" Jamie shouted in a pissed off tone.

Eddie woke up. He couldn't believe he had dozed off. He rubbed his eyes and turned the recliner back around.

"Not so loud, you ass!" Maude sprawled across the couch, in a daze. "My head eyes feel like they're going to burst open . . ."

Eddie looked down at the coffee table, and realized all the coke had almost been complete removed. Connor wasn't kidding about Maude's high tolerance. Though from how she looked, maybe he was. Connor was kneeling down beside her, holding her hand.

"Thanks," Connor, took the pint in Jamie's hand. As he did, he looked over at Eddie. "Oh! Look who's awake."

"Awake!" Jamie was out raged. "What the fuck man?! Where you sleeping?"

"I guess . . ." Eddie was still a little groggy. "What time is it?"

"It is . . ." Connor checked his phone. "Just passed midnight."

Eddie sighed in exasperation. His father was probably sitting in the living room, staring out the window. Waiting until he saw the slightest hint of him coming up the street.

"Don't worry, kid. The night's still young." Connor handed the beer to Maude who started taking re-energizing sips. Eddie was positive that wasn't healthy.

"The hell it is!" Jamie was unnecessarily loud. "Come on Eddie! This was supposed to be the night! THE night! And here you are, sleeping like . . . some . . . lazy ass animal that sleeps when it's supposed to out be fucking drunk women with his mate!"

Eddie stared up at him condescendingly. Jamie had finally started getting on his nerves. This was what it was like to have friends? If that's even what he could call it. People who judged and dragged you around everywhere, expecting you to conform to how they live or be disregarded. Jamie could tell that Eddie was pissed.

"Sorry," Jamie began. "I'm just pissed is all. It's been hours and I'm still a virgin. So far tonight I've been slapped five times and vomited on twice. I mean Christ, I thought drunk women were easier to bang!"

"They are, you're just doing it wrong," Maude had finally bounced back from the coke, the pint still in her hands. The change was truly remarkable. And Jamie got his devil's smirk back.

"So . . . why don't you show me how, sweetheart?" Jamie suggestively raised his eyebrows.

"That's it! I've had enough of you!" Maude tried to get up, presumably to punch him. But Connor held her back as she flailed and thrashed. "Let me go! I want to wipe that disgusting smirk off his face! I'm a lesbian you tit!"

"Easy! Easy," Connor sat her back back down and held the pint to her mouth. "Drink your pint. Sorry, she's a little sensitive, especially when she's high."

"I was just kidding, Jesus!" Jamie was cracking up as he sat down on the other couch. "I mean, I figured as much."

"You did?" Eddie broke in. They all stared at him.

Again, crap.

"Yeah . . ." Jamie seemed a little off. "I mean look at her."

"What about her?" Eddie eyed her and her manish clothing up, oblivious.

"Can't you tell?" Maude asked, finally calm.

"Um . . . I'm sorry, is it . . . obvious or . . . something?" They all exchanged looks at his comment.

"Well," Jamie was the first to speak. "I'm not one to judge or any of that, but it sort of is. No offense."

"Don't care." Maude chimed in but everyone was more focused on Eddie. A fact he did not enjoy.

"Oh," It was all he could manage. He was on the spot. What to say? Not the truth. NOT the truth. DEFINITELY not the truth . . . screw it. "Sorry . . . I'm just . . . well, you could probably tell . . . maybe, but . . . I really don't . . . do this . . . . often . . . at all."

"Don't do what? Go to parties?" Connor asked.

"Not what I meant, but no. Well, yes and do. I mean . . . it's not that I've never been to a party. I have. My last was . . . my 11th birthday party. But since then . . . not at all, no."

All was silent. Eddie was laying all the cards out on the table. If friendship meant conformity, then it was their turn to conform.

"What did you mean then?" Connor asked.

"I . . ." Eddie had to say something at this point. "I'm . . . not really . . . around . . . people . . . ever."

"Never?" Jamie was skeptical.

"Pretty much," Eddie nodded. "I used to. But, now I just don't. And people, don't really seem . . . to care."

Eddie stared down at his shoes. The silence came again. Eddie was sick of causing silence. He was sick of these kinds of conversation. Where he takes everything he builds up and screws himself over.

"And . . ." Maude spoke, and Eddie looked up as she did. "That doesn't bother you?"

What now? Run. To hell with the truth. Leave the truth to rot and die in a ditch. Nobody likes the stupid truth. Run.

"I think I'll go to the bar." Eddie said plainly as he rushed to the door.

* * *

Does it bother him? Does it bother him? Of course it bothered him. Who wouldn't be bothered by kind of person wouldn't be bothered by something like that? . . . Did it bother him? Could it be that he prefers to be alone? All does is try for his parents sake, but does he really not want to be alone? Deep down, subconsciously . . . No. No! He hated being alone. He refused to believe that he didn't. He wanted to be happy. Full. Content. So then why did he keep getting in his own way? What part of him didn't want to be . . . Maybe . . . Maybe it wasn't his fault . . . maybe he was just meant . . .

"What can I get you?" The bar keep asked.

"Uh . . ." Eddie woke up from thought. What does a bar have? Booze . . . no. Definitely no. "Water, please. Tap."

The bar keep gave him a dirty look then sighed.

"One water . . . I guess." He bent down behind the counter.

Eddie looked around stared at his reflection in the counter. Two empty seat on either side of him. Nothing new. So what? But just then . . . serendipity. Her face just appeared in the glass.

"Excuse me?" Anna asked, really politely. What the hell was she doing here? Eddie panicked.

"What can I do for you sweetheart?" Oh, of course bar keep. Be nice to the pretty lady.

"Whiskey, on the rocks." She drinks. What was he thinking, she's seventeen. Of course she drinks. You are the only seventeen year old on the planet that doesn't drink.

"Coming right up!" The bar keep wandered off down the aisle.

Eddie glanced out of the corner of his eye. There she was leaning in all her glory. And this time in make up! And a dress too! Thin. Skin tight. Black. Black heeled shoes. On a scale from one to ten: Shut up, your dead because you took one look at her and your hear gave out from lack of oxygen when she stole every molecule of air in your body. She hadn't noticed him yet. Say something. Prove it. Prove you want it. Take the leap. Say hi. SAY HI!

"Oh my god!" She turned to notice him. He didn't say a word but he wasn't in any position to care.

"Hi." He did his best to sound excited. Which wasn't too difficult considering his heart was working overtime.

"Boy who stares from English Lit.- Eddie! Right?" Anna said. They were speaking loud over the still wailing techno music.

"Yes. That's me and your Anna!" As if he'd forget.

"I cannot believe your here! Hey, your not stalking me are you?" She teased.

"I could ask you the same thing." He really could.

"Sorry, I just . . . When I met you today, I never really pictured you at a place like this." Anna admitted.

"Me neither!" He joked. She laughed. Nailed it.

"Yeah, well . You aren't stalking me are you?" She seemed half concerned.

"No I'm not . . . And why should are you so scared. How do I know you're not really stalking me?" Eddie was astounding himself. He was going better than usual. He was at his limits, but he was still going strong. And she was still smiling and joking. It was almost too good to be true.

"Hey, I'll have you know I was invited here, okay? How did you get in?" She had to say that. How too respond . . .? Ah!

"I know someone with access to a lot of drugs." Please get the joke.

She laughed. Yes! He was on top of the world!

"Cool . . . So are you here alone? You look lonely."

No kidding.

"Sort of, yeah," He answered. "I mean I came with people, but it didn't really . . . pan out."

"That's too bad." She was still smiling at him though. "Well then I guess I'll just have to keep you company."

He felt the inexplicable euphoria of the moment was over him. It was going well. The question still remained, though. What was going well? Then a faint but familiar shriek came from the crowd of dancers.

"ANNA!" The both turned to see Hyori in a sparkling silver dress squeezing through the crowd. "Found you!"  
She stumbled into her arms laughing hysterically. Anna laughed along, something was apparently funny. Eddie observed her: impaired motor function, dazed state of being, hyper-active behavioral patterns. Eddie believed the technically term for was "wasted."

"Hi Hyori." Anna responded through her laughs. Eddie chuckled along, but he still wasn't cure what was so funny.

"Anna," She said, leaning on her.

"What?" She responded.

"Anna, Anna, Anna,"

"What? What is it?"

"Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna . . ."

"What is it Hyori?"

" . . . Hi," Hyori snorted and they both laughed. Eddie was beginning to see what was funny, but still didn't find it funny himself. "  
"Just out of curiosity," Anna gasped for air. "What are you on right now?"

"Cocaine," Not the kind of word you say with school girl enthusiasm. "And there is A LOT of cocaine at his party, Annie. A LOT!"

"Oh," Anna realizing she forgot Eddie was there. He didn't blame her though. He forgot as well. "This is Eddie, from English Lit."

"Hi Eddie from English Lit!" Hyori blurted out. "You're cute! Like, really cute."

"Um . . ." He was utterly speechless. "Thanks?"

"Oh, but, fair warning," Hyori excused herself. "That may or may not be the drugs talking."

"Thanks anyway." He resigned from the conversation. It was fun while it lasted, sort of.

"Come dance and do drugs with me!" Hyori tried to pull Anna away.

"Uh . . ." She glanced at him. "Maybe later, sweetie. I kind of made other arrangements. But we can meet up later and dance and do all the coke you want."

"Okay!" She didn't really seem upset as she ran off back into the crowd.

Anna walked back to him. Eddie was astounded, he was chosen. Over someone else, he was chosen. It was moment worthy of being a milestone.

"You know . . . you didn't have to stay." Eddie admitted, twiddling his thumbs.

"Of course I didn't have too. But I did, so there we are," She smiled at him and there eyes met once again. "You seem like a nice guy."

His heart stopped. She glowed like an angel, even in the dark.

"Okay," Their eyes unlocked as the bar keep returned. "One whiskey on the rocks."

He handed her a glass filled with brown, iced, liquid.

"Thanks. What do I owe you?" She asked.

"On the house sweetheart," He turned to Eddie with a not so pleasant expression and handed him his drink. "And one ice water."

"Thank you. How much?" Eddie fished into his pocket.

"Uh . . . I don't know, a pound?" Eddie pulled out a single a gave it to him. The bar keep walked away without another word.

"You've got to be joking." Anna said flatly.

"What?" Eddie responded.

"You're not drinking water right now. You just aren't."

"Well sorry, but I am."

"That's it," She took the water from his hands and held her beverage up to his face. "Drink it now."

"Um . . . I don't think so."

"Come on just a sip."

"No. I-"

"Have you ever had booze? Ever?"

"Well, no-"

"Then what are you so afraid of?"

"I . . .," He looked at her and the whiskey. The fermented liquid's odor speared it's way through his nose. It's every molecule oozed with vice. What was the harm in a little sip? Everything. One sip leads to another and pretty soon he would be a drunken mess on the way home. He couldn't do it. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong. But, she wasn't. Nothing about her seemed wrong. He panicked, again. Was she worth it? Was she really. Maybe . . . but he still couldn't. "I'm sorry but I can't."

She took it away from his face and gave him a look of deep contemplation.

"How often do you do that?" She asked

"Do what?" He responded.

"Stop yourself from doing things that might make you happy?"

He was blown back. She definitely had no problem with stating what was on their mind. A trait they did not have in common. He wanted to keep his honesty inside like always. It brings nothing but trouble. Then again, he couldn't help it. She was so . . . open. It was like she knew everything about him. Even the things he didn't acknowledge on his own. He couldn't resist.

"They may not make me happy."

"Happiness is a beautiful thing," Her response was instantaneous. "If there's even chance at it. Isn't that worth the risk?"

He paused, let the moment sit there for a while. One Mississippi, she's can't be right. Two Mississippi, maybe she's right. Three Mississippi, good God she is right. She held the glass up to his lips. He stared at her the entire time she poured it into his mouth. It was all fine for a second until taste finally registered. He gagged, he wanted to spit it out.

"No," She stopped him. "Just down it . . ."

He forced him throat to comply and swallowed it hard. It felt like flaming pine cones down his esophagus. His eyes teared as he bent over and coughed. Anna stroked his back. Worth it.

"There you go." She coddled. Eddie didn't mind.

"My God, that tasted terrible." He gagged.

"Well, you don't drink it for the taste." She took a sip this time. She didn't even flinch.

"What's it for then?"

"The buzz!" She laughed. Then made him down the rest. It was razor blades in his stomach "Come on, that's liquid courage right there. Drink it up. You're going to need it for this next part."

"What next part?" He gagged some more, already feeling inebriated and dizzy.

A microphone's feed back sounded. They both turned. A band, Mind Raped presumably, has taken the stage. Such was met with clamorous cheering from the crowd. The lead singer, who had a pony tail of all things, began speaking.

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Mt. Olympus, the house of the gods!" The audience was in an uproar. Were these guys really that good? "We're super excited to play here tonight, so for our first number, we're going to bring a classic back! Here we go!"

First there was a tambourine, then a bass line. After which the drummer began the beat. A familiar beat. So familiar, that by the time the guitar riff came in Eddie already knew the song.

_GO!_

Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet. The crowd screamed and started thrashing about. One of Eddie's favorite. Something about the classics that just makes more sense then modern music. Connor wasn't kidding. Mind Rape was pretty good. And Eddie could not believe he had said that, even in his head.

"Oh my God, this is like, my favorite song! I love this song!" Anna yelled.

"Really?!" What was this girl's downside?

_I said 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me. 'Cause you look so fine, that I really want to make you mine._

"Yeah! Of course! You too?" She asked.

"Yeah!"

_I said you look so fine that I really want to make you mine._

"You want to dance?" She asked. Eddie almost keeled over.

_Oh 4, 5, 6, c'mon on and get your kicks. Now you don't need money when you look like that, do ya honey?_

"Oh, I really don't dance."

"Then jump up and down like an idiot. Do whatever, just do it with me!" She held her hand out. Eddie was unsure if he could ever say no to her again.

_Big black boots._

He looked at her, then the hand, then back at her, then the hand again.

_Long brown hair._

Eddie took a breath and barely touched it.

_She's so sweet, with her . . ._

She didn't give it another thought and stared dragging him by the wrist, into the crowd of people.

_Get back stare!_

She found a spot and began dancing. He found it difficult to make out what exactly the movements were. She just seemed so cheery and graceful. He just watched her for a while, soaking her in.

_Well I could see, you home with me. But you were with another man, yeah!_

She saw him staring and gave him a look. He jolted, he had do something. So he stared bobbing up and down. She grinned. His bobbing became hopping. The hopping turned into jumping up and down like an idiot while fist pumping.

_I know we ain't got, much to say. Before I let you get away, yeah!_

Honestly, he hated what he was doing. But, just the moment. The fact that he was out, late into the evening, in a warehouse full of young people, buzzed off whiskey, with a girl, doing anything. It was enough. It didn't matter what it was, it was just enough. He had not felt like that in long time. Actually pleased with who he was, where he was, and what he was doing. He made it. He adapted. He wasn't a lost cause. He was normal! He was human! He looked around and saw Maude, Connor, and Jamie all cheering him on from the upper scaffolding.

_I said are you gonna be my girl?_

He gave them a thumbs up and danced on. Anna was laughing and moving. She was so beautiful, in any light.

_I said 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me. 'Cause you look so fine, that I really want to make you mine._

She danced closer to him.

_I said you look so fine that I really want to make you mine._

She smiled. What was it? Was it the smile? The movement? The personality?

_Oh 4, 5, 6, c'mon on and get your kicks. Now you don't need money when you look like that, do ya?_

All parts seemed great. Maybe that was it. All the good just blended together.

_Big black boots._

She took his hands and flung them around. He laughed. No, there was something else to her.

_Long brown hair._

She twirled and stopped with her back to him.

_She's so sweet, with her . . ._

Anna began gyrating her body. Specifically the lower half. Wait. What? She inched closer.

_Get back stare!_

She peered over her shoulder and gave him this look with these eyes. He stopped bobbing. She was a foot away from him, still swiveling her body. What was this? What was she doing?

_Well I could see, you home with me._

She was almost completely backed into him now. Inches away. Hold on, was she . . . ?

_But you were with another man, yeah!_

His body seized up around the center. Eddie was running on instinct now. His pulse was going so fast, no thought was capable.

_I know we ain't got, much to say._

Mere centimeters now. That was it, she was going to do it. What should he do? What should he do?

_Before I let you get away, yeah!_

She did it. Her body spooned into his. Her butt brushed right smack near his crotch. A jolt of lightning ran through his body. He could feel all his synapses firing on full throttle. He shook and quivered like some pathetic dog, but he didn't move.

_I said are you gonna be my girl?_

She reached her hand up and grabbed his neck and pulled him in, he froze. She looked up at him, her eyes seduced his. Her smile was one of gratification. Like that was meant to comfort him. That was it. She wasn't like some innocent angel. This was her downside. This was what she did. This was her vice. Now he was part of it as well. He tried to smile back. She took that as an all clear and began - Eddie could not believe he was using this term - grinding on him. Her body swerved and slid and spun about. Sweat moistened about his body. He could feel the heat in the room sky rocket. The music built into the guitar solo in the background, but he couldn't here it. Eddie found he couldn't here much of anything. It all sounded muffled. Like an echo shouted into a pillow. Too much, too fast . . .

_Yeah!_

He began panting shallow breaths. The heat was unbearable. He couldn't breathe, his lungs were on fire. Too much, too soon, too much, too soon . . .

_C'mon!_

He looked around helplessly. The people began collapsing in around him. Trapping him. Suffocating him. So much sweat and skin and movement. He was hyperventilating. It was all too fast. Too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast . . .

_Ahhh! I could see!_

He couldn't take it. The lights shined too fast, his brain pounded, he was dizzy. He felt faint.

_You home with me!_

They all closed in around him. His heart just kept going, and going. He felt a heart attack coming on. He wasn't sure he could stay on his feet. Fear numbed his body and shook it uncontrollably. Too small. Too many people. Too much skin. Too much touching. Too close. Too angry. Too hot. Too dark. Too bright. Too dizzy. Too loud. To scary. Too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too much, too fast . . . TOO MUCH. TOO MUCH TO HANDLE!

_But you were with another man yeah!_

He was in no control of his body when Anna's hands slithered down, grabbed his, and placed them on her hips. Enough. He pushed her away, maybe too rough. She stumbled into a group of people in front of her. She turned around in outrage. But softened to concern when she saw him. He was a mess. Looking around him all paranoid, panting for breath. Searching for a way out, only finding bodies and skin and sweat in his way.

_I know we ain't got!_

"What's wrong?" She asked.

_Much to say!_

"Eddie?" She looked him at him. He drank it in. Fear. Reluctance. Nervous. Unsure what she saw, a mess or a timebomb. He was disgusted. Disgusted with himself. He felt something boiling in him. His anger. His pain. No more. He ran for the door, plowing through the crowd.

_Before I let you get away yeah!_

"Eddie! Eddie!" She called out after him. But he kept going. He ran smack into a walking hunk of muscle. He looked up at the face. Black hair. Deadly cereulean eyes. A look of death. Mason Gaines. Her adopted brother. Mason stared at him, unfeelingly.

_Be my girl!_

He didn't move so Eddie skirted around him. Mason's eyes didn't stop looking for a second. And Eddie could swear he could feel his eyes on him as he burst out the door.

_Be! My! Girl!_

He just kept running. Through the grassy knoll. Until he finally couldn't take it and fell to his knees. Vomiting all over the ground on the parking lot. Right beneath a street lamp.

_Are you gonna be my . . . GIRL! Yeah!_

* * *

Eddie began pounding the ground. Scraping his hands on the pavement. He exhausted himself doing this, so he sobbed a little instead. He failed. He came so far and he failed. He tried so hard and he fail. He promised them. Both of them he would try. It's too late now. He was a lost cause. A freak. A recluse. A pariah. A pathetic little puppy in a dog eat dog world. He just couldn't take it! Why the hell couldn't he take it? He wanted to be happy. He wanted to . . . maybe he had it right to begin with. Perhaps . . . he really was meant to . . .

"Nice upchuck." Like a ghost in the night, her voice returned, Stephanie Turner. Standing plainly in her grunge attire. Eddie huffed and tried to stop his stupid sobbing. He wasn't in the mood for her creepy routine.

"Leave me alone." He uttered.

"You look nice." She ignored the request.

"Please I just want to be alone!" Eddie was angry. It was no longer a request.

". . . Why would anyone ever want to be alone?" Somewhere in her unfeeling semi-monotone, she seemed actually concerned.

"Because maybe . . ." He finally came to the truth. There was no denying it. "Maybe that's just it. Maybe I'm meant to be alone. Maybe . . . maybe everyone on the damn planet is supposed to enjoy the sun, and the love, and each other. While I get locked out . . . in the rain . . . alone for the rest of my life. . . Because that's how it supposed to be."

The wind blew. The music thumped in the distance.

"You're right," She finally said. Eddie looked up at her. That he did not expect. "You're absolutely right. We are. We're society's afterbirth. The runts of the litter. Everyone else gets to be happy. Get a chance to happy. But someone's got to be unhappy for them. And that's us. Because that's how it works. . . that's how it's supposed to be."

"We?" All he could manage. She knelt down, met him at eye level.

"Yeah," She pointed to Mt. Olympus. "You think I like going these asshole conventions. I come because when I look at them, watch them fumble and bash their heads together, it makes it bearable. We know better, you and I. We know the truth. We know that they're nothing. They're parasites. That we may be the miserable fuck ups, but that doesn't make them any less than drooling idiots. Let them have they're blissful ignorance. I'll take abject intelligence any day."

"But . . .," He was so flabbergasted at the nature of the conversation, he barely noticed it when she put her hand on his back. "But I don't want that. I want to be happy. I want to adapt and live."

She leaned in close.

"No use living if you aren't surviving. Survival is all there is. All there will ever be." She stared at him with her amber pupils.

He was empty. He never heard someone speak so cruelly yet so honestly. Eddie had had those kinds of dark thoughts in the past, but he never lived by them. The world couldn't be that dark a place. Could it? A strange thought occurred to him.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"I told you that." She responded.

"No I mean here, here. How did you know I would be right here, alone, at this party."

She didn't answer. The stare was getting awkward. At least for him. She took his hand off his back.

"I know a kindred spirit when I see one, Eddie. Lonely hearts beat in time. We're the same."

"How could you know that?"

" . . . I'm alone, Eddie . . . I'm alone, and angry,and depressed, and sad, and I want so desperately to be happy. To be loved. To be accepted. Just like you," She tilted her head and shut her eyes half way. "Am I wrong?"

Eddie was disturbed. This girl was morose. This girl was crazy. This girl had issues. This girl was creepy. This girl had no idea how to talk to people. And worst of all, she was right. That was the saddest part. He felt how other's felt when they talked to him. He was like this zombie. A shut in, and recluse. He felt appalled with the revelation and stumbled to his feet.

"I have to go." He said in a hurry.

"I'll be waiting Eddie," She took to her feet a watched him pace away. "You can't run from this! It's you and me against the world, Eddie! No one else understands! We're alone! We're all alone!"

Eddie was running now. Trying desperately to out the run the truth. The truth ran fast.

* * *

The bus ride was terrible. Nothing like getting dirty looks from strangers, when you smell of saline and vomit. Walking down the streets in the the dark wasn't all to pleasant either. But he would have gladly suffered through either if it mean avoiding what followed. Walking through his front door. The living room lights were on and it was approximately 1:00 a.m. He was tired, and angry, and sad, and just wanted to sleep in his bed and shut out his mess of a life for six hours before he had to live through another day of it. One likely more painful then the last. So, he swallowed hard and opened the door. He went in fast, kicked of his shoes, and dashed for the stairs. But then, he was stopped by the worse possible voice.

"Where have you been?" Eddie turned at the sound of his fathers voice. Both his parents sat on the couch with disapproving pictures on their faces. "It's officially tomorrow. We've called six times in the past two hours. So . . .?"

"I'm sorry. I never heard my phone." He uttered. His father got up and smelled him.

"Have you been drinking?" His father demanded. Eddie nodded. "I knew it."  
"Daniel please-" His mother begged.

"I told you, didn't I. From the moment I laid eyes on that kid, I knew he'd be trouble."

"You don't know it was him." His mother objected.

"It doesn't matter, Helen! Look at our son! He's fragile, you know that! Who knows what could have happened?" His fathered turned back to him, Eddie did his best not to look him in the eyes. "You're not to see him again, son."

"That won't be a problem Dad." Eddie said quietly.

"Why?" His mother asked, Eddie didn't respond. Instead he went up the stairs. "Sweetheart, did something happen?"

"Nothing happened Mum." He didn't want to do this.

"Eddie, I know something's wrong." She pressed.

"Nothing's wrong Mum." He really didn't want to do this.

"Yes there is." She pressed still.

"Eddie tell us what's wrong." Now his father jumped in.

"Please-" He really, really didn't want to do this.  
"Eddie just talk to us." His mother wouldn't relent.

"I just want to go to bed." Eddie closed his eyes as he stood on the stairs with his back to them. He prayed for them to stop.

"We can help you." His father wouldn't relent either.

"You just need to talk to us." Mother.

"Eddie?" Father.

"Please." Mum.

"Talk to us." Dad.

"What happened?"

Fine. Eddie opened his eyes. They wanted it. They would get it.

"The same thing, mum!" He whirled around and came barreling down the stair. He thought he was angry at them, but he wasn't. He was always angry at himself The tears had returned. "The same thing happened! The same thing that always happens! I screwed it up! I always screw it up!"

"Eddie-" His mother had regretted starting him up. Too bad, he was already on a roll.

"I tried, Mum. I really tried. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it." He tears came down streaming. His sobs deterred his speech. "We went to the stupid party . . . There were all these drugs, and booze, and the music was so loud, and it was so dark, and all these lights just kept flashing and flashing, and the people. My God the people . . . there were so much skin and movement, and so little space. . . I saw people dancing, getting high, having sex, cursing, yelling, fighting . . . It was all too much . . . And it was just too fast to take in . . . I was scared, alright?! . . . . . . I-I tried to make it work, but I just didn't . . . mix! And then there was this girl, and she . . . I panicked! I got dizzy and light-headed and I couldn't handle it. So I panicked, I ran, and I threw up in the parking lot! And that's what happened! Are you happy?"

His mother was in tears too. He hated that. She came over and hugged. They sat down on the stairs as he sobbed into her shoulder.

"I wanted to keep my promise, mum. I wanted too so badly. But I can't be like them, mum. I hate them! I hate all of them! They disgust me! I hate the drugs! I hate the booze! I hate the music! I hate the anger! I hate the touching! I hate the skin! I hate the stupidity! I hate the parties! I hate the fighting! And I hate most of all that it can all make them so happy, when it terrifies the hell out of me! . . . Don't make me be like them, please . . . I don't want to be like them . . ."

He sobbed for a while, until his father, who just stood there, finally said something.

"I'm calling the psychiatrist." Once he said it and took off down the hall, Eddie panicked and followed him.

"No!" He called after him.

"Dan, think about this!" His mother pursued.

"There's nothing left to think about," He picked up the phone and began to dial. "I should have called him when we first got wind of this."  
"No please!" Eddie snatched the phone and put it back on the hook.

"Son-" His father began.

"I'll try harder, I swear."

"You did your best, son, but you need help. That was the deal."

"You're not listening, please."

"I have listened."

"No, you haven't. I don't want help living, Dad. I just want to be me!"

"Son," He put his hands on Eddie's shoulders. "This isn't really you. This is keeping you from being the real you."

"But it _is_ me!"

"Son-"

"NO! YOU CAN'T CHANGE ME!" It was louder then he intended, but he wasn't in control of anything at this point. "Dad, you can't change me. I'm done adapting, Dad. I've had enough of the whole lot of it. This is who I am, and no matter how hard I try or or I much I want too, I can't change! So, if that's wrong . . . Well, I've seen what normal is Dad, and if that's what it is, then I want nothing to do with it. . . . And . . . I wake up every morning, look my self in the mirror, and try to figure out what the hell it is I'm looking at. And I comb over every single flaw, trying to understand what it is that's so wrong about me. But at the end of the day I just don't care, Dad! I keep telling myself I'm going to change, but I never do! Nothing sticks! And why should I have to be the one to change, anyway? The world's become so . . . UGLY! Why can't it change?!

"Son . . ." His father conceded, Eddie could read it on his face. His father looked at him with kind eyes. He spoke in a soothing tone. "Being a patrolman for twenty years has taught me one thing. No matter how hard you try, you can't change the world for the better. It's too big, too dark, and too terrible."

His father pulled him in close, resting his head on his chest. His father kissed the top of his head and just held him.

"It wasn't always . . . Once it was bright and beautiful . . . small and simple . . . everyone was kind considerate," Eddie reminisced His mother came up behind him and held him too. "What happened to it? When did it all get so awful?"

"You grew up." His father said poignantly.

"Then I wish I was a kid again." He responded.

"So do I," His father and mother exchanged a look.

"No therapist, right Dan?" His told him.

"Right," His father agreed they sat down in the hallway, propped against the wall. "We'll sort this out. Together."

There he sat on the floor. Sandwiched between the only people who care about him in the entire world. In him was a feeling of love and self-disappointment. He knew then understood, but he still let them down. They had to have been the greatest, most loving parents in the whole world. They deserved a kid who functioned properly. But he couldn't think about that at that precise moment. He was already asleep.

* * *

The next morning came around. Eddie woke up in a daze, the morning sun shooting onto his face. He was still sandwiched between his two parents, both asleep. He looked at them both. You can tell a lot about a person when you watch them sleep. It's when they're truly alone, in their own private worlds. They were so peaceful. Eddie knew they needed the rest, so he carefully slipped out from between them. Eddie tip-toed up the stairs and changed his clothes. He skipped his morning routine this time. He couldn't look at himself, not at that moment. Screw hygiene. He could live with out a shower. Eddie grabbed his backpack, and took out a little piece of paper, taping it to the wall where his parents could see and wrote: "Gone to school. I love you both." With that he was out the door blinded by a new day, once again.

Eddie walked. Walking didn't help today, it just made him think more. The more he wondered Bristol, on his way way to Roundview, the more he felt guilty. Yes, he hated Bristol because it was a pathetically small little hamlet that seemed to be a breeding ground for ilk. But, his father had it right. The world is too big a place, and too evil a place. Bristol is just one of many places. But, looking at the buildings, the streets, the trees, the cars, the sky, the grass, the pavement. Listening to the birds, the wind, and the horns. Soaking the simpleness of the morning sun, taking it all in at face value. It wasn't so terrible. Maybe that was the problem. The world is beautiful, but's humanity that's ugly. Since the beginning of time people had always screwed up their lives, and everyone else's for some reason or other. Everyone. But they could always let it go, couldn't they. Nothing sticks. Nothing . . .

Eddie rounded a street corner and serendipity slapped him in the face. He bumped into her. Why her? God almighty why her?!

"Excuse me," Anna said, before she finally realized who she bumped into and took a step back. "Oh . . ."

"Hi." Eddie said flatly. She wore a sweatshirt and leggings, presumably she was jogging.

"Hi." She returned just as flatly. They both looked equally confused.

"This getting-" Eddie began.

"Creepy, yeah." She finished.

The tension hung there for a few seconds. Awkward drenched them.

"So . . ." She broke it. "I'm just on my morning run. On your way to college?"

"Yeah."

"It doesn't start for another hour."

"Yeah, well . . . I like walking."

"Ah," She tried for a smile, but even she couldn't. "Well, I'd better go, see you in class."

Anna paced around him. She wasn't even ten feet away before Eddie turned around.

"I'm sorry," She stopped when he said it and turned. "I didn't . . . I'm just . . . sorry."

"Oh, it's fine. I mean I probably shouldn't have-"

"No it's not." He stopped her. It wasn't the day for sympathy. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just . . . I-I-I couldn't . . . I mean . . ."

"What?" She took a few steps forward.

"I . . . I'm not . . . I just can't . . . exist in your world." It sounded messed up, but he couldn't put it any other way.

"My world?" She obviously didn't know what he meant.

"Yours and everyone elses." He added.

"What do you mean?" See? No idea.

"Well . . . crap," He searched for the exact words, nothing came. At least nothing simple came. "I don't know. It's not something give the short version of."

She took a seat of the curve and offered the seat next to her.

"Then give me the long version."

"Um . . ." She wanted him to air his dirty laundry out in public. She even wanted to know. "It's a really long story."

"I got time." She was serious.

Well, he was already in the river. Why swim against the current? He reluctantly took a seat next to her, abstaining from looking directly at her.

"Oh God, where do I even begin . . . I mean I guess . . . I was a happy kid, when I was little, you know? Lots of friends, nice parents, and everyone was so nice. Everything was all PlayStation and sunshine. I had so much fun . . . come to think of I'm pretty sure those were the best years of my life. All twelve of them . . . then I turned 13. And that was when people started . . . changing. They started talking differently, and dressing differently, and doing all these things I always I knew that I should never do. But . . . you know I ignored it. Just kept being me. I didn't find out what the 'f-word' mean until I was 15! 15! Then . . . then people started picking up on it . . . I wouldn't do what they did, follow their lead . . . They started ignoring me. Keeping me out of their loop. Pretty soon everyone who I thought were my friends were treating me like a had some disease . . . So I started keeping to myself, staying home a lot, etc . . . Then I turned 14 and things got terrible. I suddenly went from being an oddity to a freak. Something they could point at laugh . . . And I was called everything in the book: pale kid, scrawny, short stuff, weakling, anti-social, awkward, shut in, creep, pervert, nerd, teacher's pet, I could go all day with this. But . . . it just came to point where I didn't care what people thought. Good or bad, I just didn't care . . . then they got insensitive. They dumped salt all over me, locked me in the showers . . . girls, harassed me . . . I-I can't be specifc-"

"It's fine, it's fine."

"But it happened enough times that, I just didn't care. Started not caring about a lot of things that year. It was like . . . Novocaine. I just kept numbing the pain. But, then I felt empty. And then I turned 15 and things got even worse. They forgot about me. Cast out like a leper. A pariah. It was like the whole world just shut me out. Everything hurt me, all the freaking time. So I took up writing, took up walking, took up thinking, wound up hating them. The world I lived in and the people who lived in it. Teenagers specifically. All the disgust and evil they fed off of. I hated it all. Looking back that was probably not the best way to live. All that hate. Like I was any better . . . Then I turned 16 and . . . I don't know . . . Something in m just snapped I guess. It was last summer, a week out from from the end of the semester . . ."

"It's alright."

". . . I sat at my desk. And I just . . . I don't know. I remember standing up in the middle class, going out the door, and walking. Then I was running. Down the hall, out the door, down the street, then . . . nothing. I woke up in the woods, bleeding and bruised. So, I found my way home. My parents told me I'd been missing for three days. People . . . the police had reports of a raving lunatic, fitting my description, screaming in the woods. Mutilating and bashing himself against trees and rocks . . . My parents were devastated. They tried to get me to see this psychiatrist, but I refused. I wanted to convince myself that I didn't need help living . . . So I promised them that I could sort it on my own, if not they could send me to the bloody head shrink. But, you know . . . I tried. I gave it my all, but it was no good . . . I'm a lost cause."

Eddie took a moment to assimilate a reaction from her. He turned slightly to see her staring attentively.

"No matter how hard I try, I always blow it all to hell. I'm always scared around people, or angry, or depressed, or awkward, or upset, or panicky. This mess of a world ruined me; turned me into this living pile of pathetic trash. And now I can't help but wander through my life, alone. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being alone all the time. I'm sick of letting myself get kicked around by everything and everyone. I'm sick of being terrified by the stupidest things. I'm sick of conforming to this disgusting world we live in. I'm sick of that being my only option. I'm sick of it! I don't want to hate anymore . . . . or be alone . . . or be numb . . ."

He swallowed hard and spat the last of it out.

"I'm tired of feeling wrong," He waited for an answer. "That's it."

Eddie studied her face. Lamenting, complemented by the prepubescent tears glistening in her ducts. She sighed and wiped her face. Eddie prayed that she wouldn't cry. It was not his intention.

"Can give you some advice?" She asked, her voice cracking a little. "Please."

He nodded. Let her take a crack at wisdom. Whatever it may be."

"Live." She said.

Eddie waited . . . nothing. Was that it. He wore his confusion on his face.

"Live," She repeated. "And tell everyone else to go fuck themselves."

"I don't . . ." He shook his head. Where was she going with this?

"It's you life, Eddie," She turned so she was square to him, empowered with passion. "Not mine, not your mum's, not your dad's, no one else but your's. You're the only one that's ever going to live it. And no one knows you better then you know yourself. Don't give a shit about anyone else. You can't live you're life by other people's standards and expect to be happy. That's no way to live. So, be natural! Live at your own fucking pace! Take no prisoners, make no compromises. The people will come on their own."

"But, what if, what you are drives away everyone else around you."

"Find better people." She said after a moment. "Believe me it's not as hard as it sounds. There are a lot of fakes out there, Eddie. So when some one is honest, open, genuine, and vulnerable - well it's the most beautiful thing in world in my opinion. And it's always attractive. Believe me . . . they'll come."

He soaked in all he heard. Only one doubt lingered in his mind.

"What if no one comes?"

She smiled and took his hand.

"Someone already has."

And that was it. They locked eyes once more, and he believed her. Behind her kind eyes and humble face, he saw no other course of action but to believe her. And in that moment, for the briefest moment, she was and angel again. Perhaps what Eddie saw that night was only an illusion. Perhaps there was hope for the ugly hearted people of the world. Perhaps a person wasn't to be measured by their vices, but what they are beyond them. Perhaps there was a chance. Perhaps hope was real. Inches away from her face, his heart was steady. Electricity between them set his pulses racing. He felt the urge to do something to her in that exact moment. Something. But he never did.

"Oi, Anna!" Black guy from the stairwell was propped up against an old station wagon across the street.

They broke eye contact. She stood up and waived.

"Hi, Justin!" She exclaimed

"Whose that?" Eddie asked.

"My boyfriend." She replied.

Eddie's heart dropped. All the 'perhaps' disappeared. He couldn't tell why.

"Oh." Was all Eddie said,

"I have to go," She said quickly. "But I'll see you around, right?"

"Uhh . . ." He searched for the logical response.

"Oi, get your ass in the car!" Justin was getting angry now, confrontation felt imminent.

"I'm coming!" She called back and turned to him again. "Right?"

"Yeah." It came out naturally.

"Okay . . . and I meant what I said. Bye." She crossed the street and walked over to Justin. They kissed openly and vigorously. Anna went around the side, not before Justin slapped her buttocks. They both got in and drove off. Eddie watched them for a bit until he was sure he couldn't see them anymore.

He sighed and stood up. He looked up, left, right, and down. Exhaling by the end. Her words lingered in his mind. He was confused, angry, depressed, and lonely all over again. But no, not again. There was something else. Optimistic. Not a feeling he had too often, or at all. He wasn't sure what was in store for himself. What any of the last twenty-four hours do to affect his life, if at all. And the angel. His angel. Justin's angel. So many moving pieces. One giant puzzle. And if there was one thing he still hated - it was jigsaw puzzles.

"Live, LIVE, _live_ . . ." Eddie repeated over and over as he walked on down the street.

**SKINS**


End file.
